The First Shot: An Aaron Hotchner Flashback
by HofYecats
Summary: Like the title implies, this is a short little one-shot about the first person Aaron Hotchner ever shoots but doesn't kill . Inspired by episode 3x09, "Penelope", when JJ and Hotch make eye contact after her first shot. Rated T for language. Please R&R!


**The First Shot**

He leaned over the body, a malicious sneer slowly creeping its way across his face, a cackle of satisfied victory growing in his throat. His hands still gripped the neck of his long dead victim, the shoestring he used dangling limply around his fingers. He snickered at the FBI agent standing in front of him; it didn't matter that they had him now.

It was fine. He had gotten what he wanted.

And they were too late.

Aaron Hotchner stood in frozen horror at the man in front of him, who was still kneeling on the floor beside his victim. The body of Michelle Leina lay on the cold concrete, blank eyes staring at nothing, mouth gaping in mild surprise. He felt himself grow cold as he took in the sight: the obviously insane serial killer kneeling by his victim, the half naked body of his prey sprawled on the floor, the grimy warehouse, the fluorescent lighting, the various torture devices scattered in the vicinity. He felt sick as he put the final moments of Leina's life together in his mind: she was drugged outside her house, dragged to the warehouse, beaten, tortured, and brutalized, before finally being strangled moments before the FBI arrived. He realized she hadn't been dead for very long. Had he gotten here just a few minutes earlier she wouldn't be dead. He felt sick as he came to this conclusion. Sick and enraged.

The unsub laughed as he observed the expression on Hotchner's face. It was all a big game to him, seeing who he could antagonize, how far he could take it. Cleary he was winning; he knew it from the young man's expression. Sneering once more, he stood, hands in the air, palms to the ceiling. He didn't even blink at the gun pointed at him. He just grinned even wider and looked Hotchner in the eye as he began to speak.

"Well, looks like someone decided to join the party" he said, more to himself than anyone else.

Hotchner felt himself shaking as he held the gun. He had never shot anyone before and he didn't want to start now. At least, he wasn't completely sure he wanted to start now. The unsub seemed to find his uncertainty a source of amusement as his chuckles increased and he shook his head from side to side.

"Come on son, don't just stand there, do something. You're holding a weapon. Go ahead and bloody use it for God's sake"

"Stay back", warned Aaron, "I _will_ shoot you"

"Really now, is that so? You've had plenty of time already. I don't think you really want to though, do you? Never had to shoot anyone before I suppose, eh son?"

Hotchner's finger hovered over the trigger, wanting to send that bastard to the grave, yet at the same time unwilling to make the move.

"Come one then, shoot me. Give it a go. I'd be honored to be your first" snickered the man, his hands still in the air. The stance wasn't one of surrender however; it was a mockery of it. Aaron noticed this and it angered him even more.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, shivering despite the fact that it was well over 90 degrees inside the warehouse, "You never even knew Michelle Leina. You never even spoke to her--_noticed_ her before today. Why? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you do it?"

The unsub's eyes glittered as they bored into Aaron's. His breathing increased, he seemed to quiver with excitement as he remembered his crime, as he played the scene over in his mind. Aaron swore he could even hear the man's heartbeat speed up as he spoke the words that haunted him for the rest of his life.

"I killed her, because I wanted to" he answered, his voice so elated it was almost a whisper.

He took a step towards Hotchner; his smile widening as he relived the moment in his mind. His eyes were almost dancing with excitement as he continued speaking. "I didn't _need_ to know her to want to kill her. After all, hunters don't know anything about their prey other than the fact that they know they are prey. I took the same joy in slaughtering my lamb, as did any lion in the wild. For what purpose does the prey have in life, but to be hunted by the hunter?"

"Don't move" commanded Aaron, his voice now a deadly whisper. It was a false sense of security however; like the calm before the storm. His hands were shaking ever so slightly, and his breaths were coming in short puffs of air.

"Come now, son. Put down that gun; we both know you're not going to use it"

"I said DON'T MOVE!" he yelled, losing the slight bit of control he had over the situation.

"You listen to me you little punk. You don't tell me what to do. I killed this girl here. I killed her and I laughed and there is nothing you can do about it, you hear me? I am in control of this situation. _I_ am, not you. I am an old, old man with too much wasted time on his hands and not enough done. And you are a scared little boy, hardly over twenty years old with no experience of the power that one gains from taking the life of another. So why don't you save yourself the embarrassment of blowing a hole in your ass and put that goddamn gun down right now, okay?"

His tone was rage fueled now, carefully measured with a heavy touch of malevolence laced within it. Aaron Hotchner's own rage however, overpowered any trace of fear or uncertainty that may have been present less than a few seconds ago.

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD AND DO NOT MOVE!!!" he bellowed at the man who had now dropped both his hands and was moving towards Aaron with full intent in his eyes.

"YOU DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!"

_BANG!!!_

And the man was on the floor, screaming in pain.

The blood poured between his fingers from a gaping hole in his lower thigh. Hotch hadn't known blood to ever look like that; a never ending pool of pure red, just flowing from somewhere deep in the body and exiting out that rather simple hole made by a tiny piece of lead.

He wondered if it would ever stop. Logically he knew it had to; the body would eventually just run out of blood. But the way it just surged out from the man's person made it seem endless, as though the man on the floor in front of him would just lay there forever, screaming in agony.

Agony that he had caused

But he wasn't sorry.

Suddenly there was a loud shattering sound and fifteen swat team members burst into the warehouse followed by an officer with graying hair. They took in the sight before them; the lifeless corpse, the screaming unsub, the emotionless Hotch, and acted without hesitating.

"We need a medic in here stat!" yelled the officer, putting his gun back in its holster and rushing over to the unsub to check his condition.

"You shot me!" he screamed, pointing at Hotch, "You actually shot me! That _fucking son of a bitch_ actually shot me!!!"

"You shut the hell up, you hear?!" yelled the officer, handcuffing the man despite his cry of pain, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a law of court. So just shut the hell up!"

Aaron lowered his weapon, and met the furious gaze of the unsub. He felt the rage burning in him slowly subside and he shook his head just once, before turning away and silently walking out of the warehouse.


End file.
